ADULT Dragon Age 2  The Six Things
by Sgt-Sparki
Summary: A romantic story between f!Hawke and Isabela at the Hanged Man Tavern. The two explore their deepest affections for each other.WARNING:Story contains MATURE content and sexual encounters between two females. Please Critique.I know the paring is overused!


**Dragon Age 2 - The Six Things**

Rating: +18; **Adult Content**!  
>Type: Short Story. F  F  
>Disclaimer: Isabela and Hawke are both characters of the game "Dragon Age II", developed and published by Electronic ArtsBioware. This story is only a fictional romantic confrontation between two playable characters of the game and is thus for **mature and adult audience only**.

Author's Notes: I was just in the mood to write something naughty and trashy smut story. Women are fun. If you like, **please comment and review/critique**. Remember, this was intentional smutty-kink - however, it does contain some plot than just being a sex bomb.

"Just what we needed… A lowly author writing a smutty novel with Hawke and Isabela…"  
>- Varric, the Dwarf Rogue<p>

The characters involved in this romantic short story  
>are<br>the protagonist as the female rogue,

Hawke;

and  
>the female rogue (and renegade pirate captain),<p>

Isabela; 

Also starring (no smut involvment)

Bethany;

Varric;

Fenris;

Aveline;

*****

= Coastal City-State Kirkwall, District of Lowtown… _The Hanged Man_ Tavern =

_Distant music is heard as pairs of irregular boot steps slowly approach the room. Following a short thud against the wooden door, pairs of snorting giggles and chuckles are heard. After the light clatter as the key finally its way to the keyhole, the door finally creaked open. Two figures stagger into the room; one of them kicking the door with the heel as other staggers to the center._

After stopping at the center, her wobbling head slowly examined the surroundings. Other than the very few flickers of glowing torches, the rented room was barely lit. The coronas barely reached the other half of the room that contained a table, a rundown stool and the lousy bed that was big enough for two people. The walls were made of irregular red concrete and other materials; easily hinting the _enthusiasm_ of the architects who constructed this establishment and the rest of Kirwall's _Lowtown_.

Beams of moonlight cut through the realm of soft darkness ahead of her. Her eyes followed the beams until they met the floor, soon to spot that she stood upon a raggedy rug with ripped fabrics and stains. After another looking upon the wall with another spot of moonlight, she staggered to it and moved her tanned hand upon its rough surface. The wall was scarred with what she could decipher as a history of cutthroats and betrayals that had occurred long before in this room. The black stains easily confirmed her findings.  
>However, where one would expect a concerned reaction, the woman simply smirked as she heard giggles of the other woman from further behind. The other woman was still at the door, again tried to target the keyhole. After many attempts, the key finally found its way and was rotated until the door was locked. She then turned around while leaning her body against the door.<p>

The tanned lady looked over at the other woman who stood at the door and who happened to be a former citizen of the distant Fereldan kingdom.

_Hawke_, simply _Hawke_…  
>The Fereldan was of a fair complexion and was notably tall for her stature. The Fereldan's eyes were like the purest sky blue marbles, easily shimmering in this weakly-lit room. Her black hair was very short; combed upwards with a floating bangs just over her forehead. There were also light bruises her cheeks as well as single red line upon her lip. Likewise, Hawke had dirt smudges upon her face and her attire as well as the other lady in the room.<br>There was something about Hawke's stature that easily fell into eyesight. Alike the tanned lady, Hawke carried two long daggers upon her back; their grips visibly protruding from the back of her shoulders.  
>She also wore a heavy duty outfit, comprising mainly of black and dark green studded leather and other durable but elastic materials. Many patches and perforations revealed the damage it had taken to its durability… but nevertheless, they protected the wearer from certain death. Aside to these facts, the tanned lady pinched her eyes slightly together as she continuously observed the Fereldan woman. There was something mysterious about her physical stature her mind could not unravel.<br>Hawke was not only half a head taller, there was no doubt that she was of a genuine physique. Despite this, Hawke's agility and quickness was second to none as proven in the bloody confrontations their party had undertaken only hours prior.  
>The tanned lady had misjudged this Fereldan when they first met days ago. Hawke was neither like the typical arrogant Fereldan nor the timid type like her apostate sister, Bethany Hawke. Nothing came close to the tongue of humor this Feraldan woman had; and even more, the tanned lady even once had a fit of laughter at a time where subtlety was needed, nearly blowing their cover. Luckily, their party survived that day, too.<p>

"What a _lousy_ dwelling you have rented here, Hawke…", the slightly swarthy woman in the dark began with a sarcastic voice, "and you should be careful with what rooms you chose… You have no clue what might be hiding under your bed…"  
>"Is that so? I shall file a complaint to the man of this house at once, Isabela", Hawke replied with a serious tone.<p>

After a short moment of silence, the two suddenly chuckled again; both merely bursting in laughter and snorts for moments to come. The two instantly hushed when Hawke almost fell to the side, only to have them extending the moment of uncontrollable amusement yet again. Hawke's boots knocked several times against the floor, hinting how difficult it was for her to simply keep upon her feet. She needed to breathe deeply after the fit of laughter, hoping she would not pass out.

Hawke laid her back upon the door once more, using the horizontal planks as a makeshift support to carry her weight. She then slapped one of her hands upon her chest.  
>"Oh, good maker, my heart…", the Fereldan called upwards before her head would swing around a single time and then look upon the person at the wall. Her breathing was loud and deep, periodically interrupted by additional chuckles.<p>

The room spun slightly; her mind hinting that it was wise to stay right here. While Hawke had forgotten the pain she suffered earlier, she did remember how many times she had stumbled around ever since they entered the tavern, as well as her forehead that had met the sturdy stubbornness of the door behind her prior to their entry. The head of the Fereldan woman continuously wobbled lightly as she smiled and observed the slow approach of the other lady. Hawke examined her counterpart carefully and many thoughts flew through her mind practically timelessly… as if time flew even slower than a heartbeat.

_Isabela_…  
>A Rivaini lady with a tanned complexion. Isabela was notably smaller than her. Unlike herself, Isabela did not seem to favor much of the so-called <em>clad<em> Hawke wore. There was a lot more open skin she freely revealed to the world; certainly the guilty reason for the many lacerations of blades that had scathed her badly today. Yet this Rivainian was nowhere near being the type of lady who would cry at the first site of blood… On the contrary…  
>Bloodspill appeared to be her first choice whenever it came to shady deals at the brink of going wrong; especially when her keen psyche would perceive the slightest stench of betrayal - and she would judge and act with swift lethality whenever she noticed a chance of a first strike. Isabela proved her sharp mind, especially during this night, when their party ventured to the chantry to confront her pursuers, Hayder and his band of crooks.<p>

Hawke observed the tanned lady further. Isabela's eyes were as beautiful as Amber, likewise shimmering even in the most absence of light. The Rivaini wore a blue bandana upon her wavy, chestnut-brown hair and a single golden knob piercing was just at the base of her lips. Earrings as well as set of golden chokers and embroidery enveloped her throat and most of her collar bones. Hawke's eyes wandered further downwards, discovering once more the scantly outfit of this lady. The golden bracelets and chokers tingled with each graceful movement.

The exotic Isabela wore a typical attire for being a _former_ pirate captain of the seas. Aside to the blue bandana upon her head, she wore a beige corset that possessed a short frontal drape as well as leather thigh-length boots. A matching blue scarf was tied around her waist. Her elbows were covered by leather protectors and one of her forearms also had a durable wrist guard. The region between her thighs and corset revealed much skin; the last of privacy hidden by the comfortable integrated panty form of the corset.

However, while her athletic legs revealed much, no eye could oversee how gracious the Maker was regarding her bosom. Supported by the corset, neither man nor woman could ignore the two strong convincing arguments that rested upon her chest. Only her buttocks could attract ones' eyes away whenever they were not visible, but nevertheless, her profile was certainly an easy distraction. Despite her two massive arguments, Isabela was still swift and ever since Hawke had seen her deal with imposter; Isabela often assured that her cleavage was the last her foes would see. Isabela did receive wounds from the earlier confrontations. While Hawke's bandages were hidden beneath her leather _clad_; healing lacerations were still visible upon Isabela's bare skin. Nevertheless, the pains were sunken by the beverages of victory and the long hours here at the tavern.

Unlike Hawke, the swashbuckling Rivaini was skillfully ambidextrous with her daggers and knew a many secrets ways of ending one's life just by anatomical precision. However, Isabela knew well of anatomy, but it was also her who would commonly share her thoughts and procedures of the blade to Hawke, commonly demonstrating her moves upon her body. Hawke was easily baited to speak of her deadly skills as well.

_And at times… there were unusual touches from the Rivaini at times… Both by blade and hand…_  
>Isabela's mouth was often flagrant and loose as her appearance. Regardless of this, her charming voice could seldom be ignored, and she also proved that she was the type of woman who often quenched her thirst with black ales and the most forbidden of beverages…<p>

The boots knocked lightly upon the wooden floor that also creaked to the applied weight. Isabela's slow pace towards Hawke was very feminine. Her hips gently swung as she skillfully balanced her way closer. Hawke was surprised as she continuously smiled at the approaching Ravaini. Although Isabela's balance did oscillate periodically, she was still able to move forward without falling to floor. Nevertheless, there was no doubt that her path was not most _direct_ as she did occasionally steer to the side.

Even so, the tanned lady lowered her head and formed a somewhat mischievous grin. During her swagger, Isabela straightened her back whilst pressing her chest outwards, presenting her natural voluptuous swank. _The two_delayed to the motion of her movement.

"_A wild eve… A wild night…_ Am I right, Hawke?", Isabela pronounced quietly as she was only steps away from the Fereldan woman, "Us five against… how many men and women…?"  
>"<em>I don't kneow<em>", Hawke replied lightheartedly in an exaggerated Fereldan accent and giggled, "Did I look like I was counting, Isabela?"

"Those backstabbers… But we killed many of them, didn't we?"  
>"As you said - <em>A wild eve<em> at the Chantry, eh?", the Fereldan smirked and then blew the strands at the rim of her hair upwards, "Heh-heh - We almost all got killed out there, and we did take quite a beating, didn't we?"

"Oh, why yes, we did. I'm full of scratches. All over me."  
>"- And I've got tons of bruises - I'm sure I'm black and blue underneath this suit."<p>

"That bloody _clad_ of yours…"  
>"Hey - I took several stabs to the chest", Hawke interrupted, "If I had not had this <em>clad of mine<em>, my captain-o-captain, those blades surely would've severed several vital art- ort- the blood things…"

"Yes… We all took hits. *Smirks* A fine party you have… Anders and that other _apostitute_ did knew how to mend wounds well… I could care less about that guard Aveline."  
>"Oi, that <em>apostate prostitute<em> is my sister, Bru- Bethany - Or what was her name…", Hawke said seriously, only to sputter with her tongue and chuckle again, "Aye - Those mages - I actually forgot why everybody was after the mages… Must be the ale I drunk."

"Doesn't matter. While that little timid sister of yours was rather useful **after** the fighting - I must say… She does look -"  
>"Hey, I told you, she's my sister. ", Hawke noted before jumping mildly to a hiccup.<p>

"Why… She _could_ join us, you know -"  
>"Why, by the Maker's phallus, no - Plus, she was all cute-and-cute talking to Anders. You saw the two talkin' to each other at the bar, eh?"<p>

"Of course, Hawke - I seldom miss any details… Looks like she has the urge for the _one thing_ men do best…"  
>"One thing?"<p>

Hawke took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, Isabela smelled the invisible cloud of grapes and other exotic fruits. The tanned lady then held the slightly wobbling head of the Fereldan so she could examine the deep blue eyes. Hawke's eyes merely bounced many times, easily hinting the vertigo and cause for her imbalance.

"Oh, my, Hawke - You're more _drunk_ than the men who were once part of my crew…"  
>"Hey, I'm drunk - You don't have 'n 'xcuse", Hawke added, "Not like you were much of a help when we walked all the way from the bar to the rooms", and then giggled yet again, "and I know that <em>ye just as drunk'n'guilty'n'that, m'lady…<em> - Shurely - Shu- surely more than me…"

"Don't call me _Shirley_ - And prove it", the Ravaini moved two steps away, luckily not stumbling to her own drunkenness.

Hawke scoffed and instantly attempted a step towards Isabela, only to be caught by her and push against the door again, "Granted - *hick!* I started with the wrong foot - I'm a lefty, _y'know_."  
>"Oh, which left, little girl", Isabela noted with a soft voice as she moved her head closer to her face, "That left?"<br>"No, _that other left_", Hawke joked.

"I guess it was good I brought you to your rented room. You were losing a lot of coin and even drunk in masses versus that tricky dwarf. You know best that '_Black Ale, year 33rds_' are one of the best of _dwarf blood_ - they say…"  
>The Fereldan fell slightly forward once more, "V-Varric's a good man - If I weren't that tall - I'd kiss him"<br>"Says the woman who was losing her purse to a dwarf… Good thing I did the walking…"  
>"And I did the talkin' - *hicks!*"<p>

The Fereldan shook her head and smiled.

Isabela scoffed once more, "Aye - although I wouldn't like bragging so much. You know how the word spreads… I've only been here in Lowtown for a while and I can already sense the underworld eyeing us. It is a bit foolish of us to be drinking until we drop. We might be hunted just now."  
>"Pff, now you sound like Aveline… only with more cleavage. I'm surprised the Viscount wouldn't -"<br>"Really? Oh, Hawke, you know best that the higher your ego is, the harder you'll fall…"

The Feraldan straightened stance, shortly wobbling slightly as she looked Isabela straight into the eyes. She formed her iconic smart-alecky look before straightening her back once more and closing her eyes. Without warning, Hawke lifted her head, and with a gentle motion, she fell forward - but in an instant, she felt how vigilant arms swung around to her back as well as when her bust met a soft and fleshy cushion. Isabela pushed the Fereldan joker back against the door.

"And even if I were to fall, _swift hands would come to catch my fall - I could never fall into the wake of the Blight with you at hand, Isabela_…"  
>Isabela did not know what to say.<br>"And _swift you are_, indeed", the accented Fereldan said with a gentle grin, "Look at how you _handled first_ at the negotiations. *hicks!*"

Isabela paused, and then raised an eyebrow, "You know well enough that Hayder and his crooks were no longer reasonable and willing to slit our throats, Hawke. _Negotiations_ were over the minute he said the cartel did not care about my intentions about finding the relic."

Hawke once again revealed her _serious face_ that constantly broke with unstoppable grins, "Why, yes, yes - I remember - How you said something, then swiftly grabbing your dagger with both hands to perform a _hurling messenger_ right at -"

The two recalled the moment how their group of five had stood against the troop of more than thirty men, and how Isabela had instantly swung her dagger right the dreaded leader of the crooks. The dagger had spun rapidly as it accurately followed a flawless trajectory, soon to jagged itself into the flesh of a startled victim.

"- and missed…", Isabela interrupted her.  
>"Oh, you missed? Don't you recall hitting that poor second-in-command of his? You got that poor warrior-woman right in the chest! And she was armored!"<br>"I aimed for Hayder, Hawke…"

"Oooooh…. Well… That poor girl. You pretty much shocked Hayder and the rest of his crooks, Isa' - After all, it's not likely that you'd be seeing a dagger be flung lightning-fast and then find it a second later penetrating your breastplate armor…"  
>"Aye… and that was Yendraste… The bloody bitch was Hayder's lust toy. He bought her the most expensive of equipment with the forbidden lyrium transports we did before when we were on the same boat. Too bad that piece of expensive did not save her - and we also cashed in well on her equipment and that rare two-hander axe..."<p>

"Indeed… I enjoyed the beverages and food alright, Isa - ha! That poor girl, she was **heartbroken**", Hawke joked again, "- Well, Hayder, his little lust-bitch and his bloody men can enjoy their time in the Blight now."  
>"<em>Poor girl<em> indeed… Judging all that blood that was gushing out her chest, I guess I severed the very pressure point of her essence pump. How… _unfortunate_…"

"Oh - There you go again with that exotic _tawwwlk_ of yers again, Isa - Although, I'm surprised that dagger was able to get through the plate like that. I wonder how you did it."  
>"Well… I know <span>many<span> ways of killing…"  
>"Oooooeeeehhhhhwww, reeeallleeeeeeyyy? ", the Fereldan sung, raising an eyebrow while rocking her head from one side to another.<p>

Without warning, Isabela grabbed one of the daggers from the back of her shoulder and blinked out of the Fereldan's sight. She forcefully slipped behind the victim, slapped her hand against the Fereldan's jaw bone while faking a clean swipe upon the vulnerable vein, and then ultimately pressed the tip at a specific spot against the chest piece of Hawke's leather suit. Hawke's reactions were so sluggish that she had not even noticed the blade's tip pressing against her breastbone by the time Isabela disappeared from her front; the Fereldan's hands still attempting to grab her daggers, but unfortunately missing the grip of her daggers.  
>After several seconds, Hawke drew her daggers, but then shrugged twice…<p>

"Oh… bloody hell… you win -"  
>"It struck her right <em>here<em>", Isabela explained with a low voice and formed a mischievous grin, "That breastplate was ill-sized for that skinny girl of his. There were too many vulnerable spots between the plate segments. I was lucky, but nevertheless, these enchanted blades were hard enough to penetrate such… I am certain I severed this spot just above her heart. Poor thing, she pulled the dagger out of her chest… Her heart squeezed all the blood out of her body in a matter of seconds."

"That was atrocious - but it is not like I'm complaining… heh *hicks*"  
>"Please don't - I had to listen to enough of that from your sister who still insisted we could have talked our way out of that situation… as if that was going to happen."<br>"Might as well could have gone for the head, Isabela. Varric would have gone for a headshot, provided that dwarf were part of our group at that time."

"No… I know Hayder. He was wearing the same armor. He would have dodged the dagger if it were coming for his ugly face. Instead, he would have been assured his armor would have deflected it. Too bad I missed and struck his lovely whore instead…"  
>"You sound disappointed…"<br>"I would have wanted to kill him in a different manner… A more pleasing manner, Hawke… Like this!"

The drunken Ravaini was still skillful enough to swing her dagger around and demonstrate several moves that would not have only slight vital spots of her victim; it would have also perforated several unusual yet vital areas of the internal body. Hawke exaggeratedly acted by the fake hits as well as faking painful cries like a victim, dropping both of her daggers to the wooden floor and falling down slightly, only to be caught by Isabela who know stood behind her. Isabela carried the weight of the woman the best she could, but unintentionally held by wrapping her arms just beneath Hawke's bust.

"_Ahh- I'm dead_", Hawke joked.  
>"Not yet, Hawke, you'd still feel warm blood pouring out of you. I suppose in three heartbeats, you would have seen the Maker, though. It would have been messy."<p>

Isabela released her blades, both meeting the floor in an instant.

"My, oh, my… Well - Maybe not quite… Sure this good ol' armor would have deflected most of those hits though - _It's quite special like those blades of yours_, y'know… Of course, if I'd be running around like you so scantly, I'd be dead, eh? Anyhow, I'm glad I got away with these hundreds of black'n'blue bruises… And even with all that ale we drunk - I can still feel the _pain_, Isa… Even after the treatment. Just before I fell unconscious, I feared failure and your deaths once darkness filled my eyes."

" I want to see them, Hawke…"  
>"What?", she said and tried to stand upon her feet.<br>"Show me _everything_… I want to see it all… I want to see this _pain_… "

Hawke stared at Isabela for a very long time. For this long moment, the quiet yet distant music and clatter of voices could be heard. Their gazes did not move away from each other. Hawke made two cautious steps away from Isabela towards the center of the room. She was more than hesitant to even say a word. But even with the mist of drunkenness bewildering her mind, Hawke could sense that Isabela truly meant it.

"You know… Hawke… I was worried if we would survive this night. Maker believe me…", Isabela quietly said as she approached her, "I… I have sorrowed ages long for my dead husband… and I have finally found somebody I've become… _fond of_."

Hawke's face relaxed, but she did not say a word.

"Almost forty men and woman… The majority ready to rape our bodies after our bloody deaths… Their archers were aiming at our bodies - only waiting for the direct order of Hayder. I… I had to act. I knew they were indoctrinated to bloody hell of discipline to listen to the very command of Hayder. When he was startled by the bloody death of his whore, we had vital seconds to react… When he gave the order, Bethany and Anders had caused enough of an explosion to deflect their precise aims. I even recall you taking a hit from an arrowhead - but it did not strike any vital internals… Although you received too many hits over time, I was worried if you were alive when you fell unconsciously to the floor. I could not rush to you earlier as Aveline had later taken an arrow to the knee."

"W-Well… I do have limited amount of blood, serah…"

Isabela's hand gently met Hawke's chest, feeling the rough fabric of the leather many cuts, "I barely felt anything beating beneath my palm. Bethany ultimately succeeded in reviving you after Anders sealed the severing wounds with his fade spirit. Anders even spilled a potion upon your body… Lyrium to support his spiritual aid… It could have contaminated your body in the end but your sister managed to absorb it out of you once you started breathing again… After all, she's a mage… But… If you would have died… I-"

The Ravaini suddenly felt a gentle touch upon the back of her hand. It was a gloved hand. The grip tightened around Isabela's hand. She hushed as she stared deeply into the trembling eyes of Hawke. After releasing her hand, Hawke's hand gently fiddled with a specific spots at the ends of her shoulders and also released specific small belts, zippers and snaps. Pieces after pieces met the wooden floor and it only took a few moments until the cool air slipped across her free skin. For the first time in several days, her skin was able to breathe the air around. Without a word or command, Hawke removed the undergarments.

And there she stood, embraced by the cool air. Her battered skin revealed the warm orange glow of the torches, but also gentle touches of the pale moonlight.  
>Isabela approached her and gazed upon her from the feet upwards. Her counterpart was practically tattooed with various scars, markings and notable veins… Likewise minor corruption or remains caused by scratches from the Blight's fiends as well as the vile potions that had actually neutralized these once infected wounds. Many black spots were found upon her torso. Even so, there was no doubt about the fact of Hawke's body being covered by myriads of punishment. Her stature was indeed strong for a woman. The Ravaini gently grabbed the naked arms of the woman who stood just before her. She felt the sweet warm breath against her face.<p>

Hawke's mind was bewildered by wild thoughts. Her lips opened, but words did not leave her mouth. She tilted her head while gazing deeply into the amber pair. Isabela's eyes frequently motioned back and forth, and then shortly fell to the floor before meeting with the Fereldan's again. Her hands tightened slightly around Hawke's biceps, then trembled.

Before Isabela said a word, she felt an urge deep within her stomach. In an instant, she leaned forward slightly, and tilted her head until their lips met. Hawke's eyes widened at first, witnessing how the Amber eyes halved, then closed. Her entire body trembled. The grip around her biceps tightened more and more, nails clawing deeper into the bruised skin.

Something slowly slithered between her teeth. It was a cautious warm mass… motioning forward, and then retreating slightly as it revealed utter uncertainty and hesitance. The press upon her lips intensified a little and soon, the mass met hers. The Fereldan paralyzed, but closed her eyes. She did not know what was happening with her.

_What is happening? Was it the rest of lyrium in her blood?_

Hawke inhaled once, as swift as the twitch that went through her body. The warm mass in her mouth had found her stunned tongue. She felt how her mind froze to the reality and truth that she was… _lost_. The mass gentle met the underside of her tongue, slowly twirling around the its base, tickling it gently as it slowly danced within her mouth. Her tongue followed its lead, and it only took a single moment until she had lost control of it. The taste was sweet and different.

_Both tongues motioned together like two snakes._

A deep and warm exhale flew across Hawke's eye lash… After a motion, another exhale gushed lightly against the other as the mass had rotated respectively.  
><em>A hum… Gentle… Careful… Another one… moans…<em>

Without warning, the Fereldan's eyes opened and abruptly ended the link between their tongues. A dense fluidic string instantly slipped between their tips when Hawke had raised her hands and gently pushed the Ravaini away from her. Her dark-skinned counterpart opened her eyes, soon to discover the uncertainty deep within soul of the Fereldan woman.

Isabela's heart skipped a beat, sensing the cold wave of truth upon her. The tanned lady now sensed the frail truth that she had once again done a step too close to a being she had though to _reflect her emotions_. She could see it in Hawke's eyes. They were sharp, no longer the joyful eyes that reflected her innermost affections.

So it was true… The vile and elusive alcohol flew through their bloodstreams, hindering the logical judgment and will as uncontrollable lust and euphoria had taken possession of their souls. Whether a man or not, affections were simply freeflowing… What Isabela had always sensed from this Fereldan days before and what she had deeply wished to be true was nothing but an illusion. The certainty had now swept her away into a cold reality.

_X or 3_…

*****

Isabela did not know what to say. Her back was still against the wall. The Fereldan quietly stood in the pure form the Maker made her. Despite Hawke's exposure, it was Isabela who felt the most vulnerable moment in her entire life. She now felt how shame slowly slipped down her spine. Her palm slowly moved to the side until it met the neck of long key that was still stuck into the door's lock. She… only wanted to leave.

"I… I'm sorry, Hawke… I… I did not want to force…", but no words slipped forth from her lips.

The Ravaini rotated slightly and lowered her head in shame to the floor, gently urging herself to leave.

"I-Isa…"  
>She raised her head, but did not turn around, for her shame did not dare to gaze the vulnerable beauty into the eyes.<p>

"Pl-please…", the accented voice behind her called, "Never turn away from me. I am alone. *Hicks*"  
>Her head dared to glimpse over her tanned shoulder.<br>"Ever since we've met, I always felt something… that we complement each other. We have ventured together, you and I. I know you never trusted me before. You were always looking at me, cautiously waiting to see when I would dare attempt to steal your purse or slit your throat", the naked Fereldan paused, " P-Please… You said it before… _Never turn your back_… Don't leave me… The world out there is full of misery. We will never survive if we were to be each to our own, my companion.  
>The Maker is gone. We are all surrounded by the Blight and the very terrors of mankind itself. My family and I are stuck in Kirkwall, and here we are, slaved by the coin to find our way to the safer grounds of this dreaded coastal city. Even my sister, Bethany, no longer talks with me - No matter where we go… She does not even talk to me at the house of my uncle, Gamlen. All she say's each day no matter where we go is 'We shouldn't toooawlk here'. I fear I lost her due my frequent dull choices as the older sister in various situations...<br>And not only that: My mother blames me for the loss of my brother, Carver. I can feel it. I should have been there for him. I'm to blame all along - and she is right. The Blight struck him when I was arrogant enough to believe he was ready to stand on his own.  
>If you leave, I don't know if I will survive the days to come. You think we come here each day to the <em>Hanged Man<em> at night only to bathe ourselves in victory with alcohol? No, I come to sink what is left of my shame…  
><em>No… I am alone, Isabela. I am… alone…<em>"

The Ravaini heeded a faint sob from behind. Isabela suddenly turned around and approached the naked woman whose head turned away in shame. She reached for Hawke's cheek, gently urging her to turn it and froze until the Fereldan's eyes found the courage to gaze into the amber pearls. Tears ran down both of their eyes. The Ravaini embraced the taller woman who sobbed upon her shoulder. When the tanned lady gently urged her counterpart to lift her head, she bowed forward until it met with Fereldan's forehead. After a hesitant gaze, the two could no longer hold back their innermost feelings. Isabela's grasp intensified as their lips united. Her hands massaged across the smooth spine of the being that was lost in true solitude. She felt so much for her - Too much for simple words to say.

Moans sung with the heavy exhales. The Fereldan felt how her legs became weaker. Before she fell to her knees, the smaller Ravaini moved each other towards the bed and gently laid her counterpart upon it. Hawke gazed upon the tanned lady who hesitated. Following a short movement, a set of holsters, the large blade and several other accessories met the floor. The lady before her loosened the belt straps of her thigh boots.  
>At the same time Isabela climbed onto the bed by her knees, the naked Fereldan crawled backwards slightly. Isabela sensed her counterpart's emotions, but she was not certain. She lifted her hand but noticed Hawke's gentle retreat. The lady remained upon her knees and gazed into her clear blue eyes. Once more, Isabela mustered the woman from the toes upwards. The woman before her was full of bruises and old healed wounds. Her legs were closed and she used her arms to cover her intimacies.<p>

"I… I would never harm you, Hawke. I may be a ruthless throat-slitter, but I would never betray you in any way. Please, believe me", the tanned lady said and lowered her buttocks until it met sheets.

Isabela then raised her hands, inviting the Fereldan woman to sit up with her.  
>"Hawke… You have the <em>six things<em> I find in a true woman - A man can only give me one… You are the only one I have found who could ever give me the six. It is you have chosen to share this intimacy. I can feel your shame and… our forbidden closeness… but please… You must know that we are simply two souls who seek warmth. We have been in isolation for a mere eternity. Why not end this? Please… come closer. I am not a blighted abomination."

Her hands still floated in the air, still inviting Hawke's hands to come. Finally, Isabela's hand was joined again. The tanned lady smoothly pulled Hawke's palm upon her cheek and kissed the bottom of her wrist. When Isabela paused, she sensed a reaction from her counterpart's side. Her hand curled many times upon the tanned cheek. Isabela closed her eyes as it indeed had been an eternity ever since somebody touched her this way. Hawke felt the calm skin. It was of pure warm silk; nothing she had ever touched before, for her skin was much rougher judging how many times her body had been bruised from top to bottom.

"Wh-What… _six_?", the Fereldan gently asked.  
>"Close your eyes, Hawke."<p>

When the Fereldan closed her eyes, Isabela gently grabbed Hawke's hands; placing both of them upon the sides of her forehead.  
>"My temples… <em>The first<em>… The mind. The eyes… the _second_… The mirror of our souls."

She then placed Hawke's hands upon the dark cheeks before beginning a slow slide downwards. Hawke's palms and fingers sensed the jaw bone and slid slowly down the neck. As they slid, Hawke felt faint motions on both sides of the throat until they met the base upon the collarbone. They then slid further and stopped at a specific spot. Isabela's breastbone was between them. Hawke felt strong thuds pulsing against her palms. She opened her eyes.

"_The third_… The most important. Our _essence pump_… If we do not sense it, we do not exist… Can you feel it? It beats strongly... Can you feel its urge?"

Hawke paused as she sensed the beatings. It was true, the pace was slowly increasing. Isabela's ribcage expanded and shrunk at a greater capacity. Isabela then guided the hands towards the outside, freeing the dark shoulders of her beige tunic. Hawke's hands elegantly followed the path of Isabela's ribs until her each palm swept under the base of Isabela's bosom. Isabela urged Hawke's hands to motion upwards and push them into the air.

"_The fourth_… The only thing to support our beloved children should we ever find a man with the one thing they can share us: Their love… Our world today is rare of such men, Hawke. Many of us women must find our fortune somehow if we cannot find such a man. I had found one once, but he is dead now… I… I cannot stay alone forever - Even if I know it is the Maker's will for me to live my life in bloody solitude. While a woman may have the _six things_, a man has the _one_ to give us what we truly seek - but in this dreaded world… We are usually on our own. Feel _them_… Feel them… This will unlock the gate below…"

The Fereldan began to massage the silken swells. Her hands gently clawed into the satin-smooth skin; pinching the dark nipples between her thumb and knuckle of her index finger. The Ravaini's breasts were _swollen bounties_ compared to the Fereldan's bust. While not the _massive melon monstrosities_ as any other eyeballing man in Kirkwall would perceive them, they were indeed larger than the Fereldan's hands.  
>Hawke noticed twitching as her hands frequently motioned; twitches she did not understand. While she had no doubt her doings were pleasurable for the Ravaini, she frequently noticed the tanned lady bitting her teeth with a gentle but painful moan. Hawke's mind was distracted however. There was no doubt that Isabel's body was blessed. Isabela was well endowed by the Maker. Not a single line of her body was obstructed. Her voluptuous breasts complemented her beauty. They were soft and yet possessed a notable resistance. As she massaged them, she began to hear pleasurable moans from the woman before her. The more she circled the surging mounds, the more her palms began to slide upon the warm tanned satin.<p>

"Remove the rest", Isabela whispered and shortly stood up from the bed, allowing Hawke to pull down the rest of Ravaini's attire and undergarments until she was completely exposed as the Maker created her. Only her blue bandana and the golden embroilments around her neck and shoulders remained at their place. Isabela calmly kicked away the rest from the bed and sat down before the Fereldan.

The two stared at each other.

"Hawke… What do you feel? But do not let it slip from your lips…"

Even with the distance of music and muffled voices, Hawke could heed faint thuds - barely sensible and yet they were there, thumping like a barely audible tapping finger against hollow wood. Even with faint noises coming the holes in the wall that let the outside world of Lowtown, Hawke could perceive these sounds.  
>Yet it was only know when she discovered that this frequent sound was coming from her as well. She shortly moved her hand upon her taut, bruised self. Hawke's hands examined cold skin. It was not warm or silken like her companion. Each movement upon her skin left a burning, irritated impression behind their trails. But there were unexplainable truths dwelling within and beyond her soul. Hawke felt the thuds in chest. They were slower in pace than the ones she perceived before her. Strangely, Hawke began to discover that there were subtle responses in both soul and body respectively to her searching hands. Even her tongue twisted and massaged the gum and teeth. Alike her counterpart, her breathing was unexplainably elevated - but it was only now that her blue eyes revealed to the amber pearls that she wanted to learn <em>more<em>.

The tanned lady crawled forward, Hawke fell upon her back until the Ravaini hovered above her. The Fereldan felt how the nerves tingled in gentle fear. Her keen senses began to shiver, warning her of something. It was her innermost instincts responding to the tanned lady's crawl; her curved frame moving over her like a spider about to crave its maw into a paralyzed prey. Even for this Fereldan being a seasoned killer that went by the title of rogue, she revealed that fear was spreading through her body. Isabela could sense this. The breathing below was audible and became slightly intense with each passing moment. The skin below shimmered slightly, but it also became paler - so pale that her amber eyes could spot faint blue veins.  
>Once again, Isabela paused and maintained her hovering position. Her curly hair hung downwards. Her thighs were split, having the pale legs of her counterpart between them. The left arm of the Ravaini was just to the left of Hawke's ribcage; the other to the right of the Fereldan's head. Hawke's breathing became heavier, but so did that of the dark Ravaini.<br>Hawke's eyes wandered. Even with the downward pull, the two dark mounds maintained their beauty slopes by the tight skin. She gazed upon a dark body whose curves were by far more athletic, sharp… and _genuine_... In the Fereldan's eyes, a perfection of such that could only have been shaped by the Maker. Neither could Hawke hide how much this being meant to her, nor could Isabela to her counterpart below. A single beam of moonlight fell upon the back of the Ravaini, smoothly revealing how silken her skin was; but the truth of moonlight also threw a shadow that reflected the deepest solitude of Isabela. The beam of truth was clear in Hawke's eyes. _Isabela was a sorrowing being just like she was._

Hawke then felt a surprising pressure upon her waist. The cold skin of her lowest abdomen met with overwhelming pelvis. Even Hawke's seemingly defined waistline was no match to the athletic pelvis and the thighs that applied pressure to her very own. The sitting Ravaini arched her back to its utmost, gently exposing her aroused mounds towards the outside. The swells maintained their beautiful forms; they fell as they were not supported by the tunic and yet one could not bear to define them as _saggy_. Even by their notable size and weight, they still maintained most of their alluring curves. With each intake of air, both mounds rose and fell.

The Fereldan view fell from Isabela's breastbone. Although Hawke's abdomen was more defined, there was no doubt that Isabela's beauty surpassed hers. Hawke's eyes went due south from the belly button until they fell upon the very juncture of her legs… The treasured womanhood placed just less than a moment away from hers. Isabela's feminity was only guarded by the dark brown curls; the _lips_ kissing just above the Fereldan's portal.

Isabela shortly noticed the Fereldan's pale cheeks flushing to a gentle peachy complexion. She smiled lightly as she witnessed this woman sensing the forbidden ways despite the Maker's absence. The Fereldan was acting like a young acolyte nun of the Chantry who felt shame and awe for such sinful deeds. Yet, she sensed how this Fereldan not only craved for her intimacy, but also her utter curiosity of _the six_.

"Hawke… _Are you truly sure about this_? Are you willing to heed _all of the six_?"  
>It took the once brave Fereldan a full of four deep heartbeats before she ultimately answered, "<em>Y-Yes… serah… Yes… Maker heed my word… Maker be my witness of this s-sin…<em>"

The dark woman above stared upon her. The Fereldan could feel how these amber eyes merely pierced into the very soul. Whether it was due fear or uncertainty, Hawke's _essence pump_ began to make deep beats from here on; while slow, they were practically bottomless and sensible… Even beyond her ribcage. It was that moment again when a female prostitute who truly happened to be mind-manipulating blood mage had taken control of Hawke's body.

But Isabela formed her iconic yet mischievous grin…  
>"I could've sworn you were the kind to generally choose <em>The grinning Mask<em> over _The Leaves_", the Ravaini said lightheartedly.  
>Hawke said nothing but formed an innocent gaze.<p>

"Very well… But I sense you are using something that _blinds_ your true senses, Hawke…", Isabela explained carefully and moved her hands upon the Fereldan's cheeks, "Let your mind guide you… _Not your eyes_…"  
>The Fereldan appeared to be uncertain of what she meant. Isabela lifted her hands and shortly fiddled with the blue fabric that covered most of her hair. After twirling the cloth a few times, she then place it over Hawke's eyes and skillfully tied it tightly behind her head. As of now, she saw nothing but pure darkness; only capable of relying on her remaining four senses.<p>

"Seek…", the tanned being whispered from above.

Hawke blindly stretched her arms forwards until they met with the warm body. She touched many times. Her finger tips found faint valley that were almost parallel to each other… _ribs_… Her hands began to wander downwards. She heard a faint joyful moan as her hands slipped down Isabela's genuine frame, obviously tickling her. When Hawke's blind search met with Isabela's pelvis, she discovered that while her own was defined by certainly denser bone. Isabela's hips were notably more curvaceous than hers, easily representing all that a lady truly was.  
>It would be harsh to reveal that Hawke's body was more of a man, but the Fereldan knew that with all her body had gone through, a fragile frame would never survive such punishment that she was frequently forced to suffer… least to say how overwhelmed her sister, Bethany, was. Her thumbs could feel the protruding bones and pits of Isabela's pelvis. Her hands wandered towards the back, feeling the curvaceous and soft buttocks that were like the soft fruits of her distant Ferelden kingdom. Hawke continued to massage the pelvic region as the Ravaini spoke.<p>

"The Fifth… The _cradle_, should we ever be joined with a man and should the maker ever bless us with the child. You know well, Hawke, that we cannot be _blessed_ without a man, no matter how caring two souls of our kind may be. The Maker may look away to our sinful deeds, but thy will never be gracious of blessing us. I could never bear a child in this world, Hawke, and yet I feel… _imcomplete_. N-Nevertheless, I am alone… It is better that way… Yet, it does not make it simple for any of us. Nothing is more punishing than a woman's solitude, Hawke.  
>But there are times were a woman, whether a lowly elven slave to Kirkwall or the highest knight-commander of the viscount, will sense an <em>urge<em>. Nobody will know if this is the Maker's will or be it a moment of the Maker's absurdity… The _cradle_ will arose our femininity sooner or later. Whether you are a knife ear or a devote Qunari female… You will sense that _urge_. It cannot be ignored for long. If a man cannot be found; then one shall find an equal… or pleasure _the sixth_ by herself…  
>But for this night and age, let us be <em>one<em>…"

The Fereldan stopped when she felt motions. Soon, her laying self was almost covered by the Ravaini's warm body. Warm gushes blew upon Hawke's chest and face. The heavy wind was accompanied by the powerful thuds transmitting through the swelling flesh that merely devoured hers, and she felt nervous and embarrassed as the Ravaini could now feel hers as well. Yet, the Fereldan woman discovered only now how much the Ravaini craved for such close intimacy. Her breathing merely sung with the innermost urge Isabela could not entirely explain.

"Hawke… Are you willing to enter the forbidden _sixth_ with me?"  
>The woman made a hesitant pause before nodding. Hawke's blindfolded face was joined by a kisses and the seductive dances of tongues from open mouths. Isabela's hand began a voyage across the Fereldan's body. Unlike her own, Isabela discovered that the Fereldan's skin was taut, cold and irregular. Her smooth hand frequently ran upon irregularities; from old scars to bruises and cuts that were still healing. It was also now that the Ravaini's naivety understood the moderate burning sensations when Hawke was touching her… <em>Both of their wounds they had suffered this night were still sensible<em>. However, whether it was a sadistic or a pleasurable truth, the pain intensified the euphoria on both sides.  
>Isabela lifted her torso slightly so that her hand had leeway. It soon met with Fereldan's right breast. While it was certain that any woman of Thedas and the worlds beyond different appearance, Isabela was still amazed of this specific Fereldan. Hawke's body was considerably defined by strength. She did not look masculine, and yet, she was not that what every man would assume <em>curiously attractive<em>. She was still attractive, but Isabela knew men well enough as common beings who never really enjoyed the thought of a literally strong women besides them. Isabela's hand cuffed the exposed breast.  
>Hawke's breast was barely a handful; by all means much smaller when opposed to Isabela's bosom. Unlike Isabela's breasts that would greatly flatten to the sides if she were on her back; The Fereldan peaks were more of an orb form, yet faintly flattened as she rested upon her back. The nipples, however, while seemingly meaninglessly small and pink amidst the pale skin, revealed to be hard and sensible. Unlike Isabela's, the nipples were practically integrated nubbins to the areola rather than the erected teats.<p>

The movements of her thumb was reflected by the acts of how the Fereldan lips and tongue motioned. Her hands moved blindly upon the Ravaini's back. Isabela sensed how her single hand stimulated the Fereldan. Isabela felt how both of their _essence pumps_ continually increased in pressure and force. Even the breathing was becoming uncontrollable; often joined by uncontrollable short puffs and irregular inhales. Their moans slowly became irregular chants. Isabela's hand probed and pinched the nipples a few times, followed by strokes and capturing gropes.  
>Every grope revealed a reaction. Isabela soon figured that the Fereldan was not the kind of woman who would only enjoy a simple pleasurable venture but more of <em>rougher one<em>. It was more than clear. The painful burn caused by rubs and sweat upon the healing wounds were only fueling her innermost animalistic urges. The more the Ravaini clawed her nails into the flesh, the more Hawke reflected this by uncontrollable motions of her body as well as the claws that were leaving reddish trails upon the tanned back. Hawke was becoming more and more possessed by something she could not control. It was as if the alcohol in her blood had allowed an inner beast to escape. Isabela wished to venture forth and let loose this intimate soul that dwelled in Hawke's heart. The Fereldan's head rocked to each side as she felt the pleasurable energies slowly swarming to her limbs. Both pain and pleasure was flowing through her veins.

Isabela licked the Hawke's collarbone as she played forth with the Fereldan's breast. The poundings became deeper and deeper. She molded and kneaded them further. Her thumb circled around the peak and witnessed the Fereldan biting her lower lip; only a single moment away from making it bleed. She was craving for more of something neither she nor Isabela as well could explain. The tanned lady ultimately allowed her hand to venture south until it began a slow descent down the last slope that led through a thicket of straight, black hair and forbidden portal of the _the sixth_. Isabela's fingertips danced gently through the ultimate mound of hair and sensitive skin, yet did not venture forth to the so-called portal.  
>The Ravaini placed her hand flat upon the pound, spreading her thumb and pinky wide across, finding the specific pressure points of the portal. Pressing these specific two, she felt how the Fereldan's essence pump pulsed to these points with immense fortitude. Isabela continually pressed several times into each of these two points that were right within the important vessels that lead from the pelvis to the thighs. Hawke's body responded by further movements of her body and the mound's irregular movements Isabela could sense by her palm. The Ravaini then used her thumb to and fingers to claw and massage the form that had risen over these decisive moments.<p>

"Hawke, this is the ultimate… _The Sixth_… Explore… Feel… _Emerge_..."

Isabela's hand soon turned downwards, with her index and middle finger at the lead, wedging its path through the mound's black thicket until it reached ultimate cleft between the legs. Her hand slipped past a bulb of flesh; her fingers split once more as they followed the form of the lips. Moist smeared as they moved along the entrance to Hawke's femininity. Lastly, her chosen fingers entered the _portal…_  
>Hawke's gentle grip suddenly joined the back of Isabela's hand, only to reveal her decision of this venture. Isabela smiled and moved the deep into Hawke's realm, guided by the Fereldan's hand. Moving back and forth, Hawke began to express reactions like never before. As moments went by, she could feel how each wound she suffered ever since began to pulse. She twisted her hand so she could explore Isabela's realm as well.<br>The Fereldan could not control herself. More and more moist was spreading upon their realms. She turned with her back against the Ravaini's breast, but continuously maintained her curling fingers within Isabela's pulsating core. The tanned woman used her right hand continuously pleasure the with passion moistened depths as her left arm dug under the Fereldan's side to continue its play with the breasts.  
>The movements and ventures became rougher and rougher. The Fereldan was enjoying this more and more, but only by Isabela's perception of the fact of the sadistic side that had emerged from the Hawke's soul. The two did not stop but endured an ongoing exchange of innermost pleasures. Isabela licked the Fereldan's ear many times and clawed the firm breasts. Hawke's heart pounded painfully against her chest; likewise the punches against her back. Isabela even bit Hawke's shoulder until the taste of thick fluidic iron drizzled upon tongue and down her back. Hawked turned around, once again being face to face with her companion. Their legs kicked and intertwined many times and their toenails left visible marks upon their calves. The bright and dark havens sprouted widely.<p>

The irregular yet rough moments pulled ripped single hair from the pubic mounds, and yet they endured forth. Their tender flesh had swollen. The Fereldan's body was getting colder as the Ravaini became hotter and hotter; urging the two to cuddle as tightly as they could. Muscles tightened and merely the spasm within and beyond became the most thriving experience ever in their lives. Their hands moved around so rapidly that it was clear they were no longer led by reasonable minds. Saliva was slipping from their mouths as the Fereldan twisted her head to continuously kiss the Ravaini beauty.

Hawke's mind was bewildered by colorful and bloody memories, but also hopes and visions of the future. She could not explain this. _Was this the rests of lyrium in her blood? Was it the dreaded ale?_ Regardless, her psyche was barraged by all that was both dream and reality. For the first time ever in her life, she could feel practically each cell of her body in its purest. She sensed each chamber of her essence pump continually pressing lust and lyrium through the vessels of her body. The sensations of pain and pleasure were reaching astounding levels; levels of which she felt how her chest was merely being crushed by the erratic beats. Hawke could feel the blood rushing through her veins. Her breath so rapid that it was as if she had been eternally running for her life.

But then, there was a rise of something... Something growing not only in her chest but elsewhere in her body, with the core of pain, excitement pleasure at the very center of her _forbidden sixth_! Her body tightened together more and more. Her chest began to squeeze together. Hawke's essence pump engaged an erratic beat until it stopped and contracted powerfully and irregularly. Isabela's body expressed the same as their joined spirit were unknowingly combined and witnessing the same. Their bodies rocked as they squirmed at the same time. Both could not stop the animalistic throbs they both sensed.

The two women expressed a series of unexplainable releases; both through the very soul and the physical body. The sensations were so crushing and pleasurable that none other than the Maker himself would ever find the true words. The fiery cataclysm was paired with ecstasy, dazzling visions, dizzying flights of euphoria and the frenzy of two bodies whose essences could never find rest. The glorious peaks and waves of rhythmic rapture joined the spasms and the flow of sweet secretions.

_Hawke…!_

A door creaked until it swung wide open, following a repetitive voice calling from the side and further away for a name that did sound recognizable. Her head throbbed as when she took a deep inhale and lifted her head. The Fereldan found herself under the sheet of a blanket. The voice called once more, but she ignored it as her mind was lost. Her wandered shortly. The room had beams of sunlight cutting through the darkness. The air was somewhat filled with smell of the depleted torches. The oily stench was more than enough to sting the Fereldan's nose. She discovered that she had rested upon her stomach. Her mind was empty, uncertain of what had happened. Her head moved back and forth, soon to hear the familiar voice from the farthest side of the room.

"H-Hawke?", a soft female voice called.

Hawke ultimately turned body around, unwillingly exposing her torso to the surroundings. The sheet fell from her side as she leaned upon her left elbow as support. The Fereldan rubbed her eyes. While her head was still empty, her head ached, easily hinting that the dreaded dwarven _Black Ale_ was stronger than she anticipated. Unknowingly to the Fereldan, she did not perceive the wave of astonishment coming from the door as her upper torso was revealed.

"H-H-Ha-Haw-", the familiar female voice stammered many times.

Still rubbing her face, she recognized the voice by her sister, Bethany.

Hawke continuously rubbed her sore eyes, "B-Bethany… How did you get in - Ah… Yes… You have a key as well… I forgot. What about -"

At the same time Hawke opened her eyes and looked straight ahead, she hushed and slowly turned her view towards the door of the rented room; degree by degree. The music was gone and the room was in fact much brighter than before. Distant music of the tavern still played but it was much calmer. When her view turned towards the left, Hawke's eyes spotted her sister, Bethany... who wore her typical mage attire with a chainmail drape…  
><em>And two men… A tall elf with a very long two-handed sword upon his back and a dwarf with an elegant red tunic revealing much of his hairy chest and a sophisticated crossbow upon his back.<em>

"This is the most unexpected moment in my entire life, messere…", Fenris said with a firm and monotone voice.  
>"Aye… And I guess I owe Anders… <em>I guess Bethany's is more after all… Heh, Hawke, pardon me, but you disappoint me - Smaller then I thought, eh?<em>"

But Hawke did not care. Even more, her mind was elsewhere as she discovered something that was left upon her on the blanket sheet. She raised her exposed torso and gazed upon the familiar fabric.  
><em>Everything else other than this was gone<em>…

Bethany could not believe her eyes. The young Fereldan sister was paralyzed, not only being surprised by the bare breasts, and possibly the nude rest of how the Maker's created her, but also that she did not even respond with the slightest of shame. Bethany's jaw fell open, still stuttered Hawke's name many times... and it took her another ten long seconds until she figure figured she was giving the two _perverted_ a long peep show. The elf and the dwarf continuously quoted and spoke of one-liners like there was no tomorrow.

"Ack!", Bethany shrieked lightly and immediately jumped into the room; nervously spinning around, "Oi - That's my sister, you perverted darkspawns!", and threw her arm, slamming the door before the nose of the two men.

Oh… Well… Not like that was the last time I'd ever see such, the deep voice of the tall elf said behind the door.  
>Aww… Bethany. Open the door, Varric said and knocked on the door several times, Come on. We didn't see anything. Bethany - Come on, it is not like we deep dwarves ever get to see such. I know, I know, I'm a surface dwarf, but hey, It is not like like we -<p>

"Go to the entrance and pay for the rooms and beverages we rented with the coin purse I gave you two blokes!", the younger Fereldan said.  
>Aww… Come on, Bethany. I mean. Hey, Hawke did not have a problem with us. It's just you, eh. Really. Your big sis' didn't say a word now. You know, you should always <em>listen to player<em>, you know. And hey, come on. It is like you said, Beth' - Maker's work. With you being **twin sisters**, why do you feel so embarrassed of how the _Maker_ created you. You even got more to be proud of, and we want to just show you the gratitude, eh. I mean, we saw Hawke so we sort of know, eh, how you look. Come one, open the door, eh. I'll spare coin and ale, too.  
>Uh. Varric, Fenris noted with his iconic voice, As far as I'm concern, Bethany is a fraternal sibling of the decease Carver Hawke… Hawke is not a twin… You know Carver was a man?<br>Quiet, Fenris, I'm trying to cut a deal here.

"Begone, you two! Do as I said, owlright now. You hear", the heavily accented Fereldan said as the last word.

I was against walking with you all along, Fereldan. I cannot believe I was convinced to come along.  
>I knew you would get something to see. Bah, hey, it was <span>worth it<span>, or not, Fenris?  
>The elf made a long hesitant pause, It was… <em>informative<em>

The dwarf gently slapped his hand against Fenris' back, _Informative_? Hmm… I guess _informative_ is the new elven slang for _yes_.  
>Fenris raised an eyebrow, We should move on. While I do not like daylight, we should avoid doing duties at night. We better move on so we can visit the injured Guard-Captain, Aveline.<br>_informative_. Hey, I'll invite you to a cup of a special ale, my friend.  
>Ale? In the morning? Are you out of your mind, Varric?<br>Ale in morning, stops the mourning. And I got this coin purse from Bethany. I'm sure the budget will cover some side-costs, eh.

"Pay our dues ownly, Varric!", Bethany's voice barked behind the door.  
>Relaaax. I'm a dwarf, remember? So, Varric, how about it?, the dwarf ultimately said and started walking ahead of him.<br>_Sigh_* _Informative…_  
>That's the spirit, eh.<p>

Men…, Bethany whispered to herself and turned her view away from the locked door and upon her older sister.

Her older sister held the blue piece of cloth. It looked familiar yet Bethany could not figure what it was.

"Sister… Hawke? Are you awlright? I'm sorry I brought those blokes with me. Fowrgive me, my sister. I should have shown the patience of a true mage rather than rushing into your privacy. Hawke?"  
>"B-Bethany… Have you seen Isabela?", Hawke asked as she continuously stared upon the blue bandana.<br>"We shouldn't tawlk here…"  
>"Bethany… Please. Not now", Hawke calmly demanded.<p>

"No. I am afraid not, Hawke. And now that you have mentioned it, the inn keeper of this tavern handed me a note with our family name. It said _Farewell_ - Without a signature… A rather sloppy handwriting if you ask me. Like somebody who never really learned to write, I say", her accented little sister explained, "Oh bloody hell, I suppose one of the blokes had a good night. I- I doubt it was about me… I mean - I did not drink _much_. I spoke with Anders most of the time and - What am I tawlking about.  
>Listen, we want to visit Aveline. Remember? She took an arrow to the knee, but she should be awlright, I suppose. We also have message from Athenril we better not ignore. And - Hawke, could you please cover your vuh-hewhs? You are making me nervous. I hope Isabela will come along, though. She knows her ways with foes - after all…"<br>Hawke clutched the bandana.  
>"Hawke? Is there something wrong with Isabela?", Bethany naively asked.<p>

The naked Fereldan looked upon the bandana once again. It was a present… _and a message_…  
>"Isabela's gone, Bethany… We… <em>I am on my own from here one.<em>"

- THE END -


End file.
